On a Bed of Angels
by A. Beautiful. Disaster
Summary: How can such a cruel thing happen to the most undeserving? A man so sensitive, a man so sweet and gentle How can someone have such a beautiful thing taken from him? A Nick piece. I'm back! Chapter 9 is up now!
1. All Alone

Title: On a Bed of Angels  
  
Author: A. Beautiful. Disaster  
  
Rating: PG.-13 for now may move on to an R.  
  
Summary: Nick closed his eyes and leaned against the door frame releasing a heavy sigh from deep with in his chest. He felt her hand gently rest on his shoulder trying , as best as she could, to comfort him. Slowly, he opened his eyes and lifted his head. "Please." He pleaded with her. "Don't let her be dead."  
  
*My very first CSI fic, be gentle!!. R&R please!!!!!!!!  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own CSI or any of it's characters.  
  
Inspired by Sheryl Crow's "Safe and Sound"  
  
  
  
She slept light. A blue blanket was wrapped tightly around her body and she shivered in her sleep. A long strand of dark hair fell across her face, porcelain in the moon light. Long shadows danced eerily across the walls and ceiling laughing and whispering unspoken secrets. She stirred in her sleep and rolled over to her back, her elegant hands tangled in her hair. A cool breeze blew through the open window and she curled up tighter in the blanket to try to starve off the cold. In the distance a car alarm went off, a dog barked and the door down stairs clicked shut.  
  
Her eyes flew open and she swallowed loudly to chase away the dryness from her throat. She listened, her deep brown eyes focused on the bed room door. Nothing. She wiped her hair from her face and shifted to turn on the lamp that rested on the oak table next to her. Light flooded the room and she blinked a few times, waiting for her eyes to adjust. Down the hall a floor board creaked under the weight of someone's foot.  
  
"Uncle Nick?" She called out and was satisfied when her voice did not falter. Silence. Nothing. Nothing but her heavy breathing. Nothing but her heart pounding in her ears. Nothing. She hated being alone. She always had.  
  
"Uncle Nick?" She yelled a little louder hoping her uncle was home. Silence greeted her. She untangled her limbs from the blanket and swung her feet over the side of the bed. Soft carpet meet her. She inched her way towards the bedroom door, her bare feet shuffling silently against the floor. She reached for the handle and froze, holding the cold metal in her hands. Silence. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. One. Two. Three. She pulled open the door quickly and her eyes snapped open. Darkness greeted her.  
  
She stuck her head out into the empty hall, her long hair falling from her shoulders. She reluctantly walked out of her room and into the middle of the hall. Her back ridged and every muscle in her body stiff. She hated being alone. She always had. She always will. She stopped, looking to her left and then her right. Nothing. The hairs on the back of her neck rose and she walked quickly towards the stairs, darkened with shadows. She ran down them, her long legs tackling them two at a time. Fear crept down her spine like cool breath against her skin.  
  
She breathed a sigh of relief as she made it to the bottom and felt cool tile against her feet. With one glance over her shoulder she inched her way towards the wall, groping for the light. Her hands ran over the switch and with a flick of her wrist she was surround by a white glow. She leaned against the wall and in the luminous hallway she was still as death. She listened, her eyes focused on the stairs. Silence. Racing towards the kitchen, she quickly flicked on the harsh florescent lights. She had managed to get her breathing under control but her heart raced in her chest.  
  
She leaned over the sink and pulled back the drapes from the small window. She peered into the darkened back yard and found nothing but shadows. Was her mind playing tricks on her? Was the creaks just part of her uncle's unfamiliar home? She had never been here after dark, before tonight, and she laughed at herself for being so foolish. Houses crack. Houses make noises. She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. She hated being alone. She always will.  
  
Her eyes slowly opened and fixed on the back door. Her face became smooth as stone and just as white. Her mouth dropped open. All she heard was her heart's steady pounding in her ears and her frightened uneven breaths. Houses crack. Houses make noises. Houses do not unlock, locked doors.  
  
She raced for the phone, his cell number repeating over and over in her head. She had the black portable with in her grasp. Her fingers wrapping around it when she was struck from behind. She gasped as she felt her legs give underneath her weight and the phone fall from her grip.  
  
Her head hit the corner of the cupboard as she went down, landing hard on the linoleum floor. She felt the air pushed from her lungs and she struggled to breath as she blinked away the stars that were encroaching on her vision. A moan escaped her lips once she found her breath and she turned over on her back. It hurt to move. It hurt to breathe.  
  
The hands that griped around her wrists were strong and tears swilled in her eyes as pain traveled to her finger tips. She tried to kick her attacker and screamed in frustration when he dodged her foot. Slowly, he went down on his knees and leaned forward so that he was on top of her. Her lips let out another scream as she struggled to get from under him. Her attempts were futile. She closed her eyes tightly, shutting out the man's cold green stare. She could feel his breath against the side her face. His threatening voice in her ear.  
  
"Fifteen old girl, whatare you to do. No daddy, no mama to save you." His voice was thick with a southern drawl and he taunted her maliciously. "No one cares for you girl." He told her as she felt his body brush her own. "No one can love you." She felt his tongue drag across her ear. "No one can love you they way I can." A shutter racked her body as a hot tear spilled down her cheek. The attacker released his grip on one of her wrists and moved to wipe away tear. Her eyes flew open and she acted.  
  
With a swift motion she drug her nails into the side of his face and dragged them across his flesh. The attack roared in pain and released his grip on her other wrist as he brought his hands to his face. She scattered from underneath him and stumbled getting to her feet. The girl only managed to put a few steps between her and the man when he lunged for her. His fingers gripped around her ankle and with a swift pull he brought her to the ground. Her knee collided with the floor and she screamed at the pain that coursed through her right leg.  
  
The attack gripped her by her long hair and pulled her head backward. She screamed in pain and started to cry when the ominous thought settled in her mind. No one could hear her. She was alone. No one could save her. No one could help her. She was all alone.  
  
He pulled her on to her back and hit her hard enough that her head snapped back. The coppery taste of blood slowly filled her mouth. Her eyes fluttered and she fought to keep them open but darkness surrounded her. When she opened her eyes she was lost in a fog, darkness at the corner of her vision, creeping closer until it swallowed her whole. 


	2. Shattered Glass

Title: On a Bed of Angels  
  
Author: A. Beautiful. Disaster  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Summary: Nick leaned against the door frame releasing a heavy sigh from deep with in his chest. He felt her hand gently rest on his shoulder, a warm comfort. "Please, Don't let her be dead"  
  
Disclamer: sadly i don't own any part of CSI.  
  
Thank you to everyone for their glowing reviews! ^_^ Remember I love feedback. Sorry, this took a little longer then I expected and chapter 3 should be out by tomorrow.  
  
*Remember this is my first CSI fic. I may / probably have the characters totally off.  
  
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Nick Stokes squinted through the thin line of dust on his windshield. He wouldn't be damned if every light in his house was on. He sighed and shrugged of that funny feeling that tugged at his spine. Like cool, skeleton fingers tracing unseen patterns down his back. He shivered slightly as he pocketed his keys and reached for a crumbled brown bag and a paper tray with two steaming hot cups of coffee. Holding the creased brown bag ,that smelled faintly of jell donuts, under his arm and balancing the coffee in his right hand, Nick managed to get out of his car with out tripping on his own feet. Shutting the door with his leg, he made his way up the path towards his house, cheerfully whistling a tune between his lips. He reached the door, fished his keys from his pockets and slipped them into the key hole. With a grunt, the door clicked open and he managed inside with out spilling a drop of coffee.  
  
The echo of the door shutting behind him unnerved him more then he would of liked to admit. His brow furrowed with confusion, the house was as silent as death. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. Something was wrong and he couldn't shake away the feeling. His skin prickled as if he had been touched by the dead. Something was out of place. It just wasn't right. Where the hell was she?  
  
"Lilly?" He called out, his voice echoing of the white walls. Silence. He set down the coffee and donuts by the door but didn't even bother to kick off his shoes. He moved quickly towards the stairs and watched his shadow dance on the wall, mocking him.  
  
"Lilly?" He yelled much more loudly this time and the amount worry in his voice shocked even him. The hall upstairs was shrouded in shadows and only the dim glow of light from the spare room, which Lilly had moved it to, spilled out into the hall. He jogged up the stairs, his heart beating with in his chest. Perhaps she was asleep? He assured himself she was sound asleep in her bed. Sound asleep and safe from harm. He reached her door way and ducked his head in to find only a ruffled blue blanket that laid on the bed. No Lilly Stokes.  
  
"Lilly!?" He raced down the stairs, his foot steps muffled on the carpet. He hit the tile and his shoes echoed loudly. He winced at the empty sound. Where the hell was she? "Lillian!" he shouted and all that answered him was his own voice. He jogged towards the kitchen calling out to his niece and skidded to a dead stop. Blood. He stepped back from the blood splatter of the white tile floor. His mouth dropped open and he shook his head in disbelief. He could not take his eyes away from it. He couldn't move, couldn't breathe. Lilly.  
  
"No." He whispered as he wondered past the blood, his steps slow and dazed. This couldn't be real. He tore his gaze away from the blood and glanced around the empty kitchen. What the hell had happened here? The back door was wide open and the cool Las Vegas night air blew into Nick's home. He shivered and slowly walked over towards the door, reaching for the handle. His hand rested on the cool copper knob. The lock had been forced open.  
  
He let out a small cry of anger as he closed the door with all of his strength. The sound of shattering glass filled his ears as the force caused the window to break into a thousand pieces, each shimmering in the moon- light. Sighing, he brought his hand to the bridge of his nose and tried to rub away the head-ache that was starting to form.  
  
"I have no where to go." Lily Stokes stood in the doorway of Nick's home. Her long rich brown hair was drawn back in a pony tail that laid across her shoulder. Her brown eyes sparkled with tears and he watched as her face contorted. She was about to cry. Nick scooped up his niece and hugged her tightly, his strong arms wrapping protectively around her small body. She felt like a porcelain doll in his grasp. He was afraid to hold her but much to frightened to let her go. "Keep me safe uncle Nick." She instructed, smiling through her tears. "Keep me safe."  
  
Her words echoed through his mind and he pulled him self from these thoughts. Shaking his head violently, to rid his memory of her pleas of safety uttered only a few hours before. It was an easy task. Keep her safe. Keep her from harm. Keep her from dying . Nick willed himself away from these taunting thoughts and searched for his phone. He stepped merely a foot before he heard it crunch beneath his black boot. Shattered in pieces, it laid scattered on the floor before him. With a wordless sound of anger he kicked the phone as hard as he could and watch as it skidded across the floor, stopping only when it collided with the dishwasher. Without another word he reached for his cell. 


	3. Tell me God, am I to die down here?

Title: On a Bed of Angels  
  
Author: A. Beautiful. Disaster  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Summary: Nick leaned against the door frame releasing a heavy sigh from deep with in his chest. He felt her hand gently rest on his shoulder, a warm comfort. "Please, Don't let her be dead"  
  
Disclaimer: sadly I don't own any part of CSI.  
  
Thank you to everyone for their glowing reviews! ^_^ Remember I love feedback. Sorry, this took a little longer then I expected. I was up to my shoulders in homework. Chapter 4 should be out no later than Friday.  
  
*Remember this is my first CSI fic. I may / probably have the characters totally off. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --  
  
  
  
It was unlike anything she had ever felt before. First there was nothing. Nothing but darkness. No noise. No smells. Nothing. Just darkness. Nothing but the darkness. Pain soon followed, flooding her body and reaching every last nerve. She felt as if she was just floating through the darkness with the never ending pain coursing through her veins. No that wasn't right. She could feel the roughness of a surface at her back and something smooth beneath her. Cool and rough. A stone wall perhaps? Something washed over her body, her clothes to clinging to her. Warm and soothing. Water. It was water.  
  
She took a deep breath, and the strong smell of mold assaulted her nose. A basement. She had to be in a basement. Somewhere underground. Slowly, she tried to open her eyes. Her lashes fluttered but she couldn't raise her tired lids. Her eyes burned and were far to heavy. Open. Open. Open.  
  
She forced her eyes to open and a dull haze clouded her vision. She blinked it away and tried to starve off the pain that attacked her from every angle. She was sure that a few ribs were broken. She swallowed loudly, clearing her patched throat and tried to rid her mouth of the heavy copper taste. Blood.  
  
She went to bring her hand up to her mouth to wipe away the fresh blood at her lips and was surprised when her hand did not obey. Her dazed brown eyes traveled to her wrists. They were bound together crudely by duck tape. She shivered in the waist high water, she closed her eyes and prayed as she tried her feet. One. Two. Three. Her feet did not obey. Her ankles where bound identical to her wrists. She couldn't move.  
  
Tears stung her eyes blurring her vision, causing seeing to be even more difficult than before. She tried with all her might to blink them away. She did not want to cry. Once her vision had returned to it's original dull haze, Lillian Stokes assessed her surroundings. A basement, there was no doubt in her mind. Rough stone walls closed in on her. Uneven stairs were to her right. Wooden and ancient. Everything was so old. Moss seemed to be growing on the opposite wall, crawling up and spreading out. A bare light bulb hung from the cement ceiling in the middle of the small room. It swung softly and flicked on and off occasionally, casting shadows all over the walls. She closed her eyes and hopped that the light would not burn out. Not while she was down here. It couldn't. It mustn't  
  
The water that surrounded her was warm. It was perhaps the only clean thing in sight. Clear, clean and warm. She, nor the water couldn't have been down here for long. Warm water? Why warm water? She shifted uncomfortably and winced in pain. Bad idea. Really bad idea. Pain shot up from everywhere informing her of her mistake. She took deep breaths to try to calm the burning in her lungs. Once she blinked away the red dots that encroached on her vision she realized that the old washed-out navy blue T-shirt she had fallen asleep in was ripped in more places than she could see. Her pajama pants were rags.  
  
How long had she'd been unconscious? An hour? Two hours? A day? There was no light besides the flicking light bulb. No windows. Nothing to tell if it was day or night. Fear tightened her chest and her heart raced. What was to happened to her? Was she ever to escape? Was she ever to see the sun light again? Was she ever to count the stars again with Uncle Nick during their trips out into the dessert?  
  
She was torn away from her thoughts and her heart seemed like it was ripped away by the growing fear as a small beam of light appeared. Her head whipped to the stairs and she cursed herself for moving so fast. The world became a dizzy blur. No, not now. She couldn't slip back into unconsciousness now. The door at the top of the ancient stairs creaked open slowly. She squinted as the harsh light filled her eyes. Too harsh and too white for sunlight. Fluorescent maybe. A tall shadow was back lit by the lights and loomed over her. Try as she might she could not make out the man's face. A black blur. A nameless shadow. She watched in silent fear as the man's head moved to the left and then the right, looking her over from every angle.  
  
"Who the hell are you!" She screamed at the man. Silence. She hated it. Silence was what greeted her when she called out to the creaks in her uncles home. Silence is what brought her here. Why couldn't he answer her? Say anything? Anything at all?  
  
She broke then. Shattered like fragile glass. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, caked with dirt and dry blood. She knew it. It hit her as if she had been struck by a car. She was to die down here. Down here in the water that was slowly loosing it's warmth. Down her with the flickering light bulb. Down here in her tattered pajamas. She was going to die.  
  
"Please," She pleaded with the shadow. "Please, say something!" She demanded, choking on a sob. Silence. Nothing but silence. She couldn't stand it. She screamed then, anger erupted in her and washed away the fear.  
  
"Fucking answer me!" She howled at the man through gritted teeth. He didn't say a word, only reached for the door knob, shaking his head in disappointment. The door creaked as he slowly closed it, blocking out the harsh light that Lilly's eyes had adjusted to and left her in the darkness. Frustration, anger and fear all settled in the pit of her stomach and Lillian Stokes grew silent. She knew it. His actions hadn't changed her mind. She was going to die here. 


	4. Beauty is a danger in this world

Title: On a Bed of Angels  
  
Author: A. Beautiful. Disaster  
  
Rating: PG.-13 [or] R  
  
Summary: She walked towards the kitchen door way where he stood, her heels echoing loudly through the home. She winced at the sharp sound, how empty a house can be with so many people wandering through it. How empty a home came be when an innocent is snatched away.  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em. I own lily though, that's something I guess ^_^  
  
*first fic, Please Review it does a lot for me ^_^. Since it is my first fic I probably have the characters off but oh well... ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- --------------------------------------------  
  
"Oh god Nicky." Catherine Willows whispered breathlessly as she stepped through the door. Nick's home was full of Las Vegas police, tramping through out the house, destroying and contaminating evidence. She watched as Nick barley raised his head at the sound of her hushed voice. She walked towards the kitchen door way where he stood, her heels echoing loudly through the home. She winced at the sharp sound, how empty a house can be with so many people wandering through it. How empty a home came be when an innocent is snatched away.  
  
"Hey Cath." He croaked, a rough sound from deep within his throat. Tears stung his eyes and Catherine had to look away. She couldn't bare to see the young man cry. Nick's glassy eyes fell to the floor as he tried to fight the tears. How can such a cruel thing happen to the most undeserving? A man so sensitive, a man so sweet and gentle. How can such a cruel thing happen to someone such as this? A man who carries around his niece's picture in his wallet like it was his own daughter and when she turned to him for help, he took her into his arms and held her with the promise to keep her safe. How can someone have such a beautiful thing taken from him?  
  
Catherine's blue eyes traveled to the blood splatter on the floor. Rich crimson. Her eyes stung with tears and her throat burned with fear. There was not enough for a fatal blow, but the fact that a young girl's blood had been spilled didn't sit with her well and she thought of her own little girl sound asleep in her bed.  
  
Nick closed his eyes and leaned against the door frame, releasing a heavy sigh from deep with in his chest. Catherine gently rested her hand on his shoulder trying, as best as she could, to comfort him. But how can she give comfort? How could she ease his soul, his fear..his guilt? Slowly, he opened his eyes and lifted his head. "Please." He pleaded with her, his eyes red, his throat sore. "Don't let her be dead."  
  
She nearly choked on the words themselves. Dead. So finale. Death. So soon. The girl was merely fifteen. So much to live for. So much to experience. She was such a beautiful girl. How shocked Catherine had been when she had dropped by Nick's house earlier to give him some crime scene photos of the brutal rape and murder of a young teen, that the two were working on, and found a fifteen year old girl answer his door. Catherine recognized her from the pictures Nick showed off as much as he could. She was tall and thin with long brown hair that draped across her shoulders. Her brown eyes sparkled and her grin mirrored her uncle's. Dead. She couldn't even bare to think it.  
  
She couldn't find her voice to answer and Nick's eyes dropped back to the floor. Back to the harsh deep crimson splattered on the ground. What had happened here? A beautiful teen girl snatched from her uncle's home late at night. For what reason? Catherine shuttered at the thought. Beauty is a danger in this world.  
  
"Hey!" Both Catherine and Nick jumped at the booming voice from behind them. The familiar voice had startle them and Nick turned his face so that it was completely hidden from Catherine's sight. She knew that the tears had spilled over. "All of you out!" Grissom ordered from the door way. Mumbling officers stalked out slowly and Catherine wouldn't be damned if they all kicked their feet a little more, just to spite him. Sara appeared from behind Grissom and she pushed through the small space between his body and the door frame to get inside the house, Warrick followed.  
  
"Nick!" Sara called out to her friend and was heart broken when he didn't even lift his head. She rushed toward him and trapped him in a comforting hug. He barely returned it. His arms danged loosely around Sara's back. How he longed for an embrace. How scared he was that she would let go far to soon but he was too tired, to guilty to hold her. Catherine turned away, she knew he blamed himself. She walked past the blood on the floor and moved carefully towards the back door. The shattered glass had caught her attention. The shards crunched under her heel and she shuttered at the sound.  
  
"Was this broken by the intruder?" Catherine called as she glanced back a Nick. He shook his head mutely.  
  
"It-I..I did it." He told her quietly, his voice low and heartbreaking just to hear. Sara reluctantly pulled herself away from Nick and hurried over to Catherine, finger print powder in hand. Warrick comforted his friend with a hug and sympathetic words.  
  
"It's not you fault." Oh but how he was convinced other wise. It was his fault. She pleaded with him to protect her and he had failed. She was dying somewhere, if not dead already. She was bloody and chances are, was broken. Probably alone. Oh how she hated to be alone. He shouldn't had left her alone. He should've thought twice. He should have protected her. She was gone, snatched, lost, taken. The fact was he didn't know where the hell she was, how the hell she was, or who the hell took her and that scared him. He swallowed loudly, the unthinkable thought floating in his mind. Beauty was a danger in this world and Nick was not blind, his niece was a beautiful girl.  
  
He turned violently and slammed his fist into the wooden door frame. Startled, Catherine and Sara watched with open mouths as Nick brushed past Warrick and nearly knocked Grissom to the floor as he stalked angrily to the front door. Nick entered the cool Vegas night air and the door slammed loudly behind him.  
  
Please review!!! ^_^ 


	5. Until you're safe and sound

Title: On a Bed of Angels  
  
Author: A. Beautiful. Disaster  
  
Rating: PG.-13 to R  
  
Summary: How can such a cruel thing happen to the most undeserving? A man so sensitive, a man so sweet and gentle How can someone have such a beautiful thing taken from him? A nick piece.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em  
  
Notes: Thanks you all for the reviews. Keep them coming, I appreciate feed back. ^_^  
  
Okay so I'm a Canadian teen with little knowledge of Nevada. This is, most likely, inaccurate.  
  
Longest chapter yet. Worked on it all night, between homework. Enjoy! ^_^  
  
  
  
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The tears that were welling up in Nick's eyes blurred his vision and he nearly stumbled over his own feet. He cursed under his breath as the tears spilled over and slowly made their way down his cheek. He wiped them away furiously and snatched his keys from his pocket. With a vicious turn he unlocked his Tahoe and climbed inside. He jabbed the ignition with his keys, missing each time. He growled in frustration before he gave a finale stab and heard the satisfying click. His hand paused, hovering over the keys before it slacked and fell limp.  
  
He crossed his arms over the steering wheel and slowly lowered his head. Burying his face into the crook of his arm, he began to cry. Tears streamed down his checks and left their wet path on the steering wheel. His breath hitched in his throat as he choked on a sob. His lungs burned and his throat was raw. It was so hard to breathe past the tears, past the sobs, past the guilt. It was his fault. All his fault.  
  
  
  
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"Lillian" She glanced up as she heard the familiar voice utter her name. Her hair spilled across her shoulders at the movement. She smiled brightly once her brown eyes landed on her uncle. He stood leaning against the door way to the spear room, where she had created a make-shift place for herself.  
  
He grinned at her, before lifting himself off the door frame. He crossed over to the bed in two swift strides and planted a kiss on Lily's head. A soft smile came to her lips at the gesture. How she had missed her uncle. She remembered when she a little girl, with freckles that dotted her nose and a few missing teeth that created a truly juvenile grin. She remembered how Uncle Nick used to take her for a full day, picking her up at nine o'clock, lifting her small body and swinging her skinny legs over his shoulders. She giggled, loving the feeling of being so high in the air. Feeling like nothing could touch her. She knew that nothing could, not while she was with her uncle.  
  
He would take her out for ice cream and take her to so many exciting places her head would be dizzy with the adventures of the day. She remembered how at the end of the day he'd tuck her in and kiss her good night. Reading bed time stories until she feel asleep, her eyes too tired to stay open. Her body to exhausted to listen to the rest of the stories. Come to think of it, she still never really found out how the stories ended.  
  
She laughed at the memory of one night when she had slept at his house, during the worst storm she had ever seen as a child. The night was darker than she had ever seen it before, the moon had hid it's face from her and she was saddened that he didn't want to watch over her. How innocent a child can be. She had been awaken by thunder booming outside, rattling every window in the house. She had pulled the covers up to her chin, her brown eyes wide with fear and her little body trembling uncontrollably. She had made a mad dash down the hall. blanket fluttering after her like a kite on a windy day. She had made it to his room before the next crack of thunder. She squeaked in fear before crawling under the covers and squirming to find her uncle hidden beneath the sheets. How she missed those days.  
  
"I have to go to work." His words brought her back to reality with violent jolt. He had to leave. Leave her alone. She chided herself for being so childish. She was fifteen, she could survive on her own for the night. How foolish of her.  
  
Alone at night, it didn't sit well with her.  
  
"When will you be back?" She asked with a light tone and was relieved when her voice did not faultier. Nick eyed his niece suspiciously, he knew she was trying to hide her fear.  
  
"Soon, I get off early." He told her with a smile as he sat next to her on the bed. She smiled brightly, but Nick noticed that the smile never reached her eyes. She was frightened. He grinned and put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her protectively towards him. She dropped her eyes to the floor not wanting to catch his gaze.  
  
"Wake me when you get in?" He smiled and gave her shoulders a squeeze.  
  
"With a steaming cup of coffee." He promised her, before he let go of her and walked out the door. He caught a backward glance of her smiling before she disappeared from his line of sight.  
  
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His tears slowed. His sobs dissipated. His chest heaved with every in take of breath, before it slowed. In and out. In and out. In and out. In and out, he focussed on the rhythm. In and out. In and out. In and out. He closed his sore eyes and imagined Lily asleep, her limbs tangled in a blanket. Looking more innocent than ever as she dreamed. His niece, an angel, safe from the dangers of the world. Safe from the wandering eyes of strangers. Safe from harm. Safe from pain. He imagined her chest rising and falling. In and out. In and out. In and out. In and out. Just like his own.  
  
He opened his eyes slowly, the image of his sleeping niece still fresh in his mind. He turned the keys and the engine roared to life. He backed the car out quickly, tires squealing as he speed off into the dark. He rolled down the window and the cool desert night air hit him like a brick wall. He closed his eyes for a moment and let the wind whip his face. He loved the feeling. It reminded him of his youth. It made him feel alive.  
  
He drove, far faster than he should on a residential street, speeding down the road in a blur. A nameless shadow, like the one that took Lily. He turned a corner sharply, narrowly missing three garbage can's, and continued to gain speed. His dark eyes mimicked the coolness of stone and when Nick caught a glance of them in the mirror he was shocked. He wasn't even sure if those were his own eyes, starring back at him, cold as ice.  
  
His gaze returned to the road and he eased up on the gas. He knew exactly where he was going but he was not exactly sure that he wanted to go there. Seven miles. Seven miles. Only seven miles.  
  
  
  
~~  
  
"Hi!" Catherine chirped, confusion etched in her voice. Her eyes widened with shock as she found a fifteen year old staring back at her from the door way. She even leaned over to check the numbers next to the door, just to be sure she had the right home. She hit the palm of her hand with a folder as she leaned on the balls of her feet trying to see past the young girl, who seemed quite familiar.  
  
"Uncle Nick!" The girl turned and called into the house. She opened the door wide welcoming Catherine in with her hand. The smell of food sizzling on the stove assaulted Catherine's nose and she winced when she heard her stomach growl. God she was hungry. The girl, who she had finally realized was Lillian, Nick's niece, smiled kindly at Catherine as she strained her neck to peer into the kitchen.  
  
"Uncle Nick!" She shouted again, taping her foot against the floor waiting for her uncle to tend to his guest. Catherine and Lillian both jumped at the sudden sound of pots clattering to the floor.  
  
"Shit!" Catherine smiled as Nick's curse carried above the shattering sound of metal against the floor. Catherine raised an eyebrow in curiosity. Moments later Nick appeared around the corner with a grin on his face. Lily brusted into a fit of laughter and Catherine chuckled at the domesticated Nicholas Stokes.  
  
"Lily." He ordered over the sound of her laughter. "Cook!" He pointed towards the kitchen and Lily left to tend to the food.  
  
"Hey Cat!' Nick greeted as Catherine smiled handing him the folder she hand been holding in her hand. "Sorry to darken the mood." He opened the folder and was met with grisly photos of a bloody young girl, not much older than Lily herself. The girl's short brown hair was caked in blood and Nick squinted to see her face through the crimson. Her porcelain skin was marked with bruise after bruise, creating sick constellations on her flesh. He noted that her legs were twisted. spread obscenely. Her skirt, ripped and tattered, barely covered her. Her underwear was missing. Nick swallowed loudly, as his gaze drifted away.  
  
"Christina Brookes, age fifteen, found rapped and murdered on the side of the highway." Catherine's voice was calm and steady but the case unnerved her more then she would have liked to admit.  
  
"She had been missing for a month, but she had been dead for less than twelve hours." Nick walked into the living room and Catherine followed, watching him as he studied the photos with disgust in his eyes.  
  
"Who could do such a thing?" He asked her his voice sharp but hushed. He threw the file on the coffee table and crossed his arms over his chest. Catherine shook her head, she didn't have an answer, for she had been asking herself the same question. Who could commit such a brutal crime?  
  
~~  
  
  
  
Nick pulled into the drive way of the modest home in Henderson, only seven miles for Vegas. He cut the engine and watched as the beams of light from the headlights died and faded away. He sighed heavily and leaned back in his seat, covering his face with his hands. He pocketed his keys and opened the door.  
  
~~  
  
  
  
"I can't go back Uncle Nick!" Lillian shouted angrily, her eyes glassy. "I can never go back not to them." She hissed through gritted teeth. Anger burned in her eyes like embers, before they were smothered by the tears that she couldn't fight any longer. She broke down and cried.  
  
  
  
~~  
  
  
  
With Lillian's words echoing through his mind, he reached the front door. His eyes dropped to his feet and he watched as he kicked at the dirt that was on the front step. What was he to say? How could he even face them? He gaze returned to the door but he couldn't build up the courage to form a fist and knock. He noticed that a few light in the house were on, which was peculiar, considering it was three or four in the morning.  
  
With a sharp in take of breath he raise his hand and pounded on the door. He heard a familiar female voice chattering inside and he jumped when the door was opened quicker than he expected. His sister-in-law's tired blue eyes were etched with worry. Her blond hair was mused from a night of tossing and turning. She wrapped her terry cloth house coat around her body.  
  
"Nick," She whispered almost accusing, "Where the hell is my daughter." Her eyes were red and Nick could tell she had been crying. "She wasn't here when we woke up." He voice cracked and she put a hand over her mouth. "She ran away Nick." She shook her head, strands of her hair falling in her face. "Where is she?"  
  
  
  
Reviews are well come. ^_^  
  
I'm sure there are errors in this and I will try to have them fixed by tomorrow night. But I'm much to tired tonight.  
  
take care 


	6. Emotional Game

Title: On a Bed of Angels  
  
Author: A. Beautiful. Disaster  
  
Rating: PG.-13 to R  
  
Summary: How can such a cruel thing happen to the most undeserving? A man so sensitive, a man so sweet and gentle How can someone have such a beautiful thing taken from him? A nick piece.  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em  
  
Notes: I am so sorry this took so long! I had writers block and I'm still not fully over it yet!  
  
  
  
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~  
  
"I hear you're staying with your uncle Nicky." Catherine informed the dark haired girl. Lillian smiled a pain stricken smile and followed the path of a small red ant as it crawled on her uncle's front step.  
  
"Problems at home?" Catherine asked in a soothing voice. Lillian nodded sharply as she sat herself down on her step, never meeting Catherine's eyes.  
  
"Oh yeah." Lily sighed as Cat plopped herself down on the step. She followed Lilly's gaze to the clear desert sky. Lily and Cat sat in silence as the watch a bird, lazily drift on a pocket of warm air.  
  
"Running doesn't help." Catherine told her, when Lily didn't make an attempt to speak. Lilly tore her gaze from the empty sky and squinted in the sun. She glanced over at Catherine, blinking away a strand of hair that fell in her eyes. Cat smiled kindly and brought her gaze down to her feet.  
  
"I was your age and twice as wild." Lily grinned at the older women and waited patiently for her to continue. "One night, my parents caught me smoking. They ripped the cigarette from my hands and threw me in my room. As soon as the door slammed, I started packing my bags." She frowned at the memory. "I was gone for a week and they never came looking for me. My hatred for them grew each day I was gone until finally I gave in and went back home." Catherine kicked at the dust on the steps with her black shoe.  
  
"Turns out they were looking for me the whole time, deathly worried that I would end up dead. But some how, through all the hugs they gave me...I still really though they hated me."  
  
"I know what you mean." Lily frowned and looked Catherine in the eyes. Catherine smiled sympathetically when she found that tears had spilled over, staining the girl's porcelain skin.  
  
"I moved out when I was seventeen and moved in with my asshole of a boyfriend. When I was eighteen I landed in the hospital with three broken ribs. After that I was on my own with no money. I stepped into the wrong ally one night and ran into this nice guy behind a sleazy building. At first I was scared, a young girl, alone in an alley with a man who had charming grin. It spelt trouble. But he had this way about him, even when he got a little to close for my comfort. I never backed way. He told me how beautiful I was, and that I should be one of his girls. The next week I was giving lap dances."  
  
Lily's eyes widen, the tears nearly forgotten as a grin formed on her lips. "You're a stripper?" She asked, amazement etched in her voice. She knew that Uncle Nick had a wide assortment of friends, but she never thought he knew a exotic dancer.  
  
"I *was* one sweetie." Catherine laughed, "The point is I ran from everything in my life and it never helped." Lily's grin fell from her face and she became deathly still.  
  
"I can't go back." She told her with a hushed voice and before Catherine could open her mouth to reply, Nick stuck his head out the door with a grin on his face.  
  
"Lily, supper." He announced as he smiled at Cat and his niece. Silently, Catherine got up from the step, dusted her hands off on her pants, and helped Lily into a standing position.  
  
"I'll see you at work Nick." She called as she started down the steps. She was a few feet away from her Tahoe when Lily yelled after her.  
  
"Ms. Willows, would you like to stay for dinner?"  
  
~  
  
Catherine shook her head sharply and brought herself back to reality. The sound of the front door slamming was still ringing through her ears and she closed her eyes, trying to clear away the fatigue that was blurring her vision.  
  
"Ah." Sara bit her lip in concentration as she dusted the door. "Two prints." She announced as she turned back to her colleges. "I don't know if they'll do much good." She admitted as she balanced her weight on the balls of her feet. Her eyes searched for another clue, another sign as to who had taken Lilly. But no matter what Sara did, she couldn't find anything. There was nothing to go on, but two prints, which probably belonged to Nick himself.  
  
"I got what looks like a denim fiber." Warrick called as he bagged the small, but significant, piece of evidence. He sighed before he stood up from his crouching position on Nick's kitchen floor.  
  
"My bet is that Lily Stokes didn't wear denim to bed." Grissom observed as he snapped a photo of the blood splatter. The flash danced across Catherine's face and she turned slowly, making her way to the empty living room. She felt eyes watching her as she exited the kitchen, but did not care.  
  
The sound of her heels, and the sound of the clock ticking away on the wall, seemed to chip away the friendliness of the living room, leaving it cold and empty. The open folder on the coffee table caught her eye and she advanced towards it. Picking up the familiar folder with her thin hands she fingered through the photographs inside.  
  
Each angle of the murdered girl revealed a different horror. Twisted limps. Blank eyes. Bruises and blood. Raped and murdered. Dumped with out a care by the side of the highway. A beautiful life taken away. The last photograph didn't bare any resemblance to Christina Brookes, the dead girl. A beautiful teen with sparkling brown eyes, short dark hair that fell around her chin and a bright grin was starring back at Catherine. It was the photo Christina's parents showed the world, hoping someone out there had seen their daughter.  
  
"You okay?" She jumped slightly, startled by the familiar voice, eerily loud in the empty room. She snapped the folder and placed it back on the coffee table. Sighing, she tried to steady her breathing before she spoke.  
  
"Yeah, I'm fine." She managed to choke out, as she turned to face Warrick. He eyed her suspiciously. Her voice at cracked and was not as strong as she would have liked it to be. He dropped his gaze to the floor, and tested his voice, hoping it would not faultier  
  
"It's strange isn't it. I mean, it's Nick's niece." He shook his head and cursed his tongue. He couldn't, no matter how hard he tried, spit the words out. Catherine nodded knowing exactly what he meant. It was Nick's niece, someone so close to one of their own. They were all having trouble keeping their emotions in check.  
  
"I spoke with the girl only a few hours ago." She sighed, rubbing her forehead, trying to chase away the headache that was forming. Dull pain echoed through her body and she flexed her shoulders trying to rid them of stiffness.  
  
"I met her this morning." Warrick reviled as he walked over to Catherine, who had her eyes focused on her feet. She glanced up at him and smiled sadly before her gaze traveled to the door. She wondered what would have happened if she would have accepted Lily's offer and stayed for dinner. She knew they were foolish thoughts for nothing would be different. Nick and her would have went to work. Lily would be left alone and in the end would have been taken. They were all powerless. It would end the same way every time. It was fate.  
  
"I can't imagine what Nick must be going through." Warrick shook his head as he leaned his weight against the wall. Catherine swallowed loudly, images of Lily being attacked filled her mind. Waking up alone in a darkened house, noises she couldn't explain, nor wanted too. The fear of the sudden realization that someone was inside the house. The pain. The struggle. Catherine closed her eyes. Nick must be crumbling apart.  
  
  
  
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I love reviews *bats eyes.* 


	7. Everybody That We Can Get

Title: On a Bed of Angels  
  
Author: A. Beautiful. Disaster  
  
Rating: PG.-13 to R  
  
Summary: Summary: How can such a cruel thing happen to the most undeserving? A man so sensitive, a man so sweet and gentle How can someone have such a beautiful thing taken from him? A nick piece  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Ah! Guys I'm so sorry I haven't updated sooner. I've been so busy lately and my writers block still hasn't really left me. But here it is chapter seven of On a Bed of Angels.  
  
  
  
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Nick was falling apart. He watched in silence as his sister-in-law crumbled under the weight of tears. The woman was picked up off the floor by Christopher Stokes who held her and stroked her long red hair. Nick watched as tears fell from his brother's eyes and traveled their way down his cheeks. He was falling apart.  
  
"You will find her Nick." Rachel Stokes pleaded between her sobs. Her small frame shook with every intake of breath and Nick was sure she was going to shatter. Crumble like sand. With a shaky hand she wiped away the golden strands that blocked her vision.  
  
"You have to find her Nick." She whispered her voice husky from crying "You have to."  
  
Nick couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He opened his mouth to speak but he could not find his voice. He watched as the light danced off his brother's glassy eyes. Christopher Stokes never cried. When Christopher was seven he had fallen from a tree and dislocated his shoulder. He didn't cry. Not a single tear fell from his eyes that day, even though Nicky knew of the exquisite pain he was going through. But, this pain was different, a hundred times more unbearable than physical pain. His daughter was gone, and Nick knew that Christopher's heart had been ripped for his chest. It was hard for him to watch the tears fall from his older brother's eyes. It was so hard for him to watch his sister -in-law falling apart. It was so hard, yet he couldn't look away.  
  
"I-I will." He chocked out of his swollen throat. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't move, and he couldn't tell them his greatest fear. He would never find Lily. He would fail her. Yet he lied to them and tried to lie to himself. He'll find her safe and sound. But that doubting thought creped into his mind and would not leave. What if Lily was already dead?  
  
-------  
  
"Sara, you okay?"  
  
Sara's body stiffened at the sound of his calm voice. She watched as a tear fell on to the glass frame that protected the smiling photograph of the young girl and her uncle. Taking a deep breath into her lungs, Sara placed the photograph back down on the table.  
  
"I'm fine." Her voice cracked a little and she winced, her gaze traveling to the floor. She sniffed and wiped away her tears. She heard him sigh and she knew what he was thinking.  
  
"Sara?" His voice was soothing and she could almost feel his arm on her skin. She turned around, never meeting his gaze and pushed past him.  
  
"I'm fine Grissom." She assured him, as she walked out of the door and never looked back as she entered the hall, and rushed down the stairs. Catherine and Warrick glanced up from their conversation in the hall near the door and watched as Sara, red eyed and determined, rush past them. Catherine opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by the door slamming. With a look of sympathy, Cath turned to Warrick who could nothing but shrug sadly.  
  
Their eyes traveled up the stairs to Grissom, who stood near the top, leaning ever so slightly against the wall. Rubbing his tired eyes, he fixed his gaze on Catherine and Warrick and sighed.  
  
"Anyone else want to walk out?"  
  
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The sky was a swirl of pink and orange and Nick swore he could taste the sunrise, as he left the home of his brother and sister-in-law. He fished his keys from his pockets and unlocked the door to his tahoe. He draped his arm across the car door and glanced at the house before him. He watched as his brother held his wife to his chest and watched Nick from the door way. Nick couldn't read the grim expression on his brother's face but the coolness etched on his features chilled Nick to the bone. He blamed him, Nick knew that much.  
  
With a heavy sigh, he dropped into his tahoe and leaned back against set. He closed his eyes, and only then realized how exhausted he really was. A dull pain throbbed in his head, just behind his eyes and the stiffness in his limbs was a little more than uncomfortable. Slowly his heavy eyes opened and the car roared to life. With one glance at the house and his brother cold eyes, he pulled out of the drive way quickly and sped off into the morning.  
  
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Sara breathed in the warm morning air as she walked down Nick's step. She blinked away the remaining tears from her vision and massaged the bridge of her nose. What sort of sick bastard would take Nick's niece? She tried to calm herself, tried to tell herself that she had seen this before, it wasn't new. But the way it had affected Nick, made it that much worse. Sara took a shaky step towards her tahoe, pulling out her sun glass from her pocket to shield her eyes against the bright sun. She cursed it for its brightness. As far a she was concerned the day should be as dark as they all felt.  
  
She reached her tahoe, opened its door and hopped inside. Jabbing the keys angrily into the ignition, Sara reached over and turned the black knob on her radio and the car was rocked with a steady blast off music over the speakers. With her head turned away from the car window, Sara didn't hear anyone approach and jumped when she felt a warm hand on her skin. She wiped around to see Grissom and she cursed herself for not rolling up her window.  
  
With one last glance at his wincing features she reached over and flicked the music off. With an uneasy sigh she turned to him.  
  
"I didn't hear you coming." Her voice sounded alien to her ears and she wondered briefly if she was the one who had uttered those words.  
  
"No wonder, Sara." He told her motioning to her stereo. She merely shrugged and flexed her hands before gripping them on the steering wheel. The silence was uncomfortable between them and Sara had the urge to drive off. But, despite every muscle in her body wanting to do so, she kept her ground.  
  
"Sara, are you alright."  
  
She nearly laughed at him. He sounded like such a broken record. She turned to him and met his concerned gaze, before lying flat to his face.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Then come back inside."  
  
Sara paused for a moment, as her eyes flicked around the enterer of her car, looking for something to fix her gaze on. She found nothing and finally gave up. She sighed but didn't move.  
  
"Sara," He gently pressed on, "We need you in there. If we are going to find Lily, we are going to need everybody that we can get."  
  
Sara fingers flickered over her keys before she turned the engine off. Grissom step back silently to allow Sara to open the door. Stepping out onto the pavement, Sara noticed her legs were shaking but she stood as straight and as tall as she could. She looked strong and she was satisfied with it, even though she didn't feel strong at all. She cleared her throat before following Grissom back to the house. She wouldn't fail this girl. 


	8. If I should die before I wake, I pray th...

Title: On a Bed of Angels  
  
Author: A. Beautiful. Disaster  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: Summary: How can such a cruel thing happen to the most undeserving? A man so sensitive, a man so sweet and gentle How can someone have such a beautiful thing taken from him? A nick piece  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em  
  
Author's Notes: I am so sorry that this chapter took so long. It was hard to get this chapter exactly how I wanted it. So with out further ado I give to you the eighth chapter in "On a Bed of Angels.  
  
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The sound of her own breath was the only reminder that she was alive. That and the steady sound of her heart pounding in her ears. She was reminded of her existence but no one was around to hear that reminder but herself. No one was near to know if she was alive or dead and she hoped against all hope that Uncle Nick knew she was alive. She prayed that he was fighting for her, looking for her, and she prayed that he was not giving up on her.  
  
She gritted her teeth as she brought her ducked taped wrists to her eye level. With a small cry of anger, she wrestled with the tape that pulled at her flesh with every move. The harder she pulled, the tighter the tape became. After a few minutes, she was left with throbbing wrist and a heavy lump in her throat. She screamed in frustration before breaking into a round of sobs. She shook her head violently and winced at the pain it brought. She took in a few deep breaths to calm herself before she bit viscously into the duck tape. She tore at the tape with her teeth, disparate to rid her wrists of the restraint. After what seemed like hours, she managed to break through the sticky adhesive. With a small smile of victory, she ripped the remaining duck tape from her wrists. She rubbed them to try to dull the pain that stung her flesh.  
  
Wiping away the tears that stung her dirty face, she submerged her hands in the water and pulled at the tape that held her ankles together. The adhesive, softened by the water, pulled off much easier and this attempt was less painful than the first. Once the tape was peeled away from her ankles and left to float in the water along with the tape from her wrists, Lily felt stronger. She had felt so helpless being bound and alone down here, unable to protect herself. Now that she was no longer restrained, Lillian Stokes felt much less venerable.  
  
With a wince and a small grunt, she brought her self to her feet. She griped the side of the stonewall to keep from falling as her knees buckled. With a deep breath, she steadied herself and slowly loosened her grip. She took a step and slowly made her way through the now cold water that surrounded her. The light continued to flicker above her head and she held her breath as she watched the unfamiliar shadows. Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt like her breath was being forced from her lungs. Her breath quickened and she felt dizzy. She shook her head, no. She couldn't have a panic attack, not down here. She swallowed and closed her eyes trying to calm herself. After a few minutes of standing in the middle of the room, she finally got her breathing under control. She kept her eyes closed, listening to her breathing, cool and calm, cool and calm, cool and calm. You're all right. You're all right. You're gonna be okay. You're gonna be okay.  
  
The light flickered above her and she could see it through her closed eyelids. She listened to the sounds that echoed off the stonewalls: the dripping off water, the slow swinging of the bare light bulb and the creak of some body's weight on the stairs. Her eyes flew open and fixed on the man that watched her from the stairs. She gasped and froze, like a deer caught in headlights, like a fly caught in a spider's web. She watched him tilt his head back and forth, studying her from all angles. It made a shiver run up her spine.  
  
His eyes were emerald green and glistened in the dull light. His sandy blond hair was tousled and looked as if it hadn't been washed in a few days. His lips were curled into a twisted smile as his eyes ran over her body. Nearly 40, the man's chin was dusted with stubble and it appeared like he hadn't changed his clothes in a while.  
  
"You're beautiful." He told her, his southern drawl thick. She shuttered and a tear spilled over and travel down her check. The stairs creaked as he shifted his weight and stepped down in to the water. Lilly, legs numb, stumbled back as he approached her. She let out a small gasp when she felt the cold stone against her back. She had trapped herself against the wall. She had cornered herself, and her fifteen-year-old body trembled with fear. Shit.  
  
The southern man had moved close enough and his shadow was cast over her body. She cringed with she smelled the thick smell of vodka and rum. Hot tears began to fall, one after the other and she bit her lips trying not the let the sob escape her throat.  
  
"Even more beautiful when you cry." The sob leapt free at that statement and she shut her eyes tightly. This is not happening. This is *not* happening. She felt his hand brush against her check and she tried to snug closer to the wall, disappear in it, but it was useless. He wiped away the tears and left his hand on her face. She could feel his hot breath against her mouth and the sick smell of alcohol assaulted her nose making bile rise in her throat.  
  
Slowly, she opened her eyes to find him mere inches from her. She squirmed against the wall as those green eyes struck her. They were so..cold and detached. So lifeless. She opened her mouth and she saw his eyes travel to her lips as he licked his own.  
  
"What. what do you want with me?" She asked in a scared whisper and she waited for an answer. It was a few minutes before he tore his gaze away from her lips and turned to her scared brown eyes. She felt his hands grip both her wrists and she gasped as he moved closer to her.  
  
"Don't you know?" He asked genuinely surprised at her question. She shook her head slowly. He grinned at her, a wide toothy grin, the grin of a predator. He leaned in and she twisted her head in disgust, but he was not going for her lips. Instead, he leaned towards her ear.  
  
"I want to hear you scream."  
  
It was faster than she ever imaged. He brought her arms above her head and slammed them against the wall. He griped both wrists in one hand and cupped her breast roughly with the other. She screamed and he pinned her to the wall with his hips. She struggled against his weight, but that did nothing but manage to scrape her arms against the rough stone.  
  
Her screams turned to sobs and see stopped her struggle. He kissed her violently and she thought she was going to vomit. The smell of booze was overwhelming. Tears streamed down her cheeks and when she thought she couldn't take it anymore, she acted. Her teeth sunk into his lip and he screamed in pain. Letting go off her breast and her wrists, he threw her to the ground. She cried in pain and began to cough as she swallowed a mouth full of the water. She choked and sputtered and tried unsuccessfully to breathe as the southern man loomed over her.  
  
"Fucking bitch."  
  
He grabbed her hair and twisted her around to her back. She coughed and spat the water that remained in her mouth in his face. With a cry of rage, he hit her. She laid still for a moment and waited for the world to stop spinning. In this time, the room grew quiet and all she could hear was the southern man's deep breathing. Her eyelids fluttered and she felt as if she was floating, detached from her body. The southern man's breathing calmed and the room became even more still and quiet. She focused her eyes on him and watched as he wiped away blood from his lip. She watched him and waited for what was to come next.  
  
"Fucking Bitch." He repeated, venom in his voice. With a cool glare, he spat bloody saliva into the water and left her lying in the water. With a sigh of relief, Lily squinted her eyes closed and listened as the stairs creaked under his weight. Once the door slammed shut and the sound echoed endlessly off the stone walls, Lillian brought her hands to her face and began to scream.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
--------------------------------------------------------- what did you think? 


	9. There's always hope

Title: On a Bed of Angels  
  
Author: A. Beautiful. Disaster  
  
Rating: R  
  
Summary: Summary: How can such a cruel thing happen to the most undeserving? A man so sensitive, a man so sweet and gentle How can someone have such a beautiful thing taken from him? A nick piece  
  
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em  
  
Author's Notes: Wow. I am back! Finally. My writers block is gone.well almost gone. I can't actually write, think, and figure out what's happening next. So here's the ninth chapter which should have been up here ages ago. Enjoy.  
  
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Sara sighed and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand as she made her way down the hall towards the break room. Her mind wandered to Nick as she tried to work the kinks and knots that had settled themselves in her neck. She was so god damn worried about him.  
  
The guilt was tearing him apart and the worst thing was, Sara didn't have a clue as to where he could be. His temper was flaring and he had left the house so quickly, that she didn't have time to voice her protest of him driving. He wasn't thinking straight.  
  
Sara bit her lip. She hoped he hadn't gotten into a car accident.  
  
She rounded a corner and tiredly shouldered open the door to the break room. Her mouth was screaming for coffee and her muscles protested every movement she made. She didn't to sit down for a while.  
  
She stopped dead as soon as the door had swung shut behind her. Coffee was just going to have to wait.  
  
Nick's still and silent form was hunched over the table, his head nuzzled in the crook of his arm. Sara let a small smile of relief cross her face. He was safe and for the time being peaceful. His breathing was deep and even and Sara did not want to disturb his slumber. With all the horror that had happened mere hours ago, she knew that this would be one of his only chances to catch up on some sleep.  
  
With a sigh, Sara's feet betrayed her thoughts as she walked tentatively over towards Nick's still form. With slight hesitation, Sara placed her hand gently on Nick's shoulder. In a split second of her touch, she felt his muscles tense and soon after his whole body jerked from his silent slumber. Sara jumped along with Nick and tightened her grip on his shoulder to steady him and to prevent him from falling off his chair.  
  
"Whoa, Nick it's me." Sara's voice was calm and even as if she was soothing a small child. Gasping for breath Nick shook his head clumsily. Rubbing his eyes from sleep, Nick swallowed hard but felt as if his throat was collapsing in on it's self.  
  
He couldn't breathe.  
  
Sara sensed his uneasiness. With a finale squeeze of his shoulder, quickly made her way to the sink and poured a cold glass of water. She smiled sympathetically as she handed Nick the glass, which he welcomed greedily. In moments, the glass was empty and Nick could breathe just a little easier.  
  
"You okay?" She asked lightly as she pulled a chair up next to Nick. She watched as his brown eyes traveled to the empty glass before flicking across her face. He shook his head and opened his lips but no sound made it past his tongue.  
  
Sara looked down at her hands, her eyes burning with fatigue. She heard Nick clear his throat with another attempt to speak.  
  
"I-didn't know where to go." He told her sheepishly.  
  
She looked up at him, her hair falling across her face. His eyes were blood shot and she could tell that they hurt him to keep them open. He needed a hot shower, something to eat and a nice long rest but that wouldn't happen until Lily was safe.  
  
"I don't know If I can ever go back home." He confessed as he painfully looked away  
  
"Nick." Sara uttered his name for comfort. She was at a loss. She didn't know what to do, how to react. She cursed herself, wishing she could do something of importance and not choke on her own words.  
  
Deep in thought, Nick ran a hand through his tousled hair trying to form words on his tongue.  
  
"I had to move after Nigel. I couldn't live in that house anymore, you know." He looked up at her, his brown eyes glassy with unshed tears. She nodded, noticing that his Texan accent was more pronounced than usual.  
  
"I couldn't live in that house knowing he had been there. It just didn't feel safe anymore." He shook his head as if trying to shake the words from his mouth.  
  
"I felt like he was still there. Like he was still watching me."  
  
His voice died and Sara reached across the table and squeezed his hand lightly. He warmed to the touch and she was glad that she could offer some comfort to him.  
  
"And now this with Lily." He bit his lip as if it was painful to utter her name. "I don't think I can go back to that house now. Not after." He stopped abruptly, he couldn't find the words to explain it to her but Sara already knew what he meant.  
  
He didn't need to tell her anything.  
  
With a sigh of frustration, he pushed himself away from the table. Sara winced at the sound his chair made as it slid across the floor.  
  
"I can't take this!" He shouted as he smacked his palm against the table. Sara flinched and sat uneasy in her seat. He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he began to pace around the room.  
  
"I can't keep moving! I can't keep running! And I sure as hell can't let my niece die!" His voice escalated and Sara tried to keep a calm expression and not show how frightened she was by Nick's sudden temper.  
  
"I can't do this Sara!" He turned to her and when he saw the scared look in her eyes, he turned his gaze toward the ground, assumed.  
  
"I failed her Sara. I failed her," His voice was calm now, barely above a whisper. He grabbed the chair and dragged it back to the table. He collapsed onto it with a heavy sigh as tears began to roll down his cheek.  
  
"I can't just wait around here while my niece is out there dying." He told her but he did not attempt to move. Sara sighed as she racked back her hair.  
  
"Catherine and Grissom are still at the crime scene," She paused uncomfortable. Using the words "crime scene" when describing Nick's house left a bitter taste in her mouth. "We found two prints and a denim fiber. They are still searching for more." She watched as he shook his head.  
  
"We will never find him Sara." He told her, as he looked her in the eye. "The odds that the two prints you found, are neither mine or Lily's are slim. You know that."  
  
She nodded sadly. He was right.  
  
"There's always hope, Nick." She assured him. Nick glanced at the door before his eyes flickered back to Sara. He stood up suddenly and Sara mimicked his move.  
  
"Where are you going?" She asked him as he reached the door. He turned to look at her as he spoke.  
  
"To find Lily." He stated simply. "I'm not going to sit around here and wait for luck and hope; I'm going out there to look for her." He started to push open the door when Sara's next words stopped him in his tracks.  
  
"Where are you going to look?" She asked and he hung his head. He didn't have a place to start. He didn't have a clue but two prints and a denim fiber. Jokes. They were nothing but jokes of evidence. Nothing. Useless. The abductor left nothing of himself behind, Nick was convinced of this.  
  
He left without answering Sara's question. He didn't have an idea of where to start, but he knew that she was out there somewhere. And he was determined to find her before death did.  
  
______________________________________________________________ ____________________ 


End file.
